Frozen Fran
by dianty
Summary: A new hero joins the group after a failed attempt by Mr. Bennett to capture her. Fran controls ice. Claire/Matt, Fran/Peter pairing. AU.
1. Midnight Visitors

Frozen Fran

Chapter 1: Midnight Visitors

Fran opened the door to her dark apartment and flipped on the light. Fran was exhausted but glad to finally be home. In the kitchen, she dropped her purse and keys on an empty kitchen counter. The kitchen opened to a sophisticated living room decorated in light blues and greens. It was a tranquil apartment which allowed Fran to relax after being on her feet all day at the casino. Fran retrieved a glass from above the sink and filled it with tap water. The glass frosted and tiny ice fragments formed in the water while she held it under the faucet. Fran casually walked into the living turning on the lamp by the IKEA sofa. She made room for her nearly frozen glass of water on a coffee table by moving a large heavy book titled: Darwin's Survival of the fittest. Fran gently placed her glass among the chemistry, biology, and books on mutation.

Twenty minutes and a shower later, Fran put on a baggy pair of black pajama pants and a light blue tank-top. Perching her petite body on the edge of the sofa, she pulled her waist length blonde hair into a bun securing it in place with two pencils. She looked for a black, soft-cover book she had borrowed from the library earlier in the week. Fran sat back on the sofa, pulling her slender, toned legs underneath her. Her pale blue eyes began reading the first pages of _Human Mutation Theory_.

Her pursuit for knowledge started about a month ago. Prior to that, Fran had given little thought to science. Given recent events, however, Fran was now completely obsessed in reading any article or book which referred to human mutation. Fran was exhausted but her desire to get through one more chapter kept her reading. It was after all only midnight and she had tomorrow off.

Loud knocking on her door pulled Fran from her intense reading. Fran's pale eyes gazed across the room and focused at her door. She had lived in Vegas for two months and did little socializing. There were a few acquaintances form the casino and her gym, but no one knew where she lived. She slowly and cautiously walked over to the door. Through the peep-hole she saw a tall, muscular, dark man standing next to a man wearing horn-rimmed glasses. _Who are they and what do they want? _Her insides screamed warnings that these unfamiliar men were not here on innocent business.

Their knocking became insistent and loud. The man wearing glasses called out, "Frances, we know you are in there. Make it easy on us and let us in".

Frightened Fran gingerly backed away from the door. She was standing in the hallway where the entry way, kitchen and living room met when the man sneered, "Get us in the apartment". Fumbling and metal scratching metal could be heard at the door.

Instinct kicked in and Fran quietly ran across the room and out the patio door. On the patio she frantically looked for an escape as she heard the men enter her apartment. Fran climbed over the edge of her patio, she found a ledge just large enough for finger tips to hold onto. Fran lowered her small frame until she was hanging from the floor of her patio. Her fingers slipped and she fell 10 feet and landed hard into bushes beneath her patio. Footsteps echoed above her, frightened, Fran held her breath and prayed her intruders had not heard her land. As the footsteps re-entered her apartment, Fran quickly stood and ran away from the apartment building and her intruders.

Inside, the men entered the clean and organized apartment. Mr. Bennett scanned the room for Frances Smith. The patio door was slightly ajar. He instructed the Haitian to check out the patio while he continued to examine the apartment. Nothing escaped Mr. Bennett's examining eyes. He noted the books on the coffee table, the sophisticated home design, and the family pictures displayed on the bookshelf. Most importantly he noticed Fran's name badge for the Hotel where Fran worked.

The Haitian had inspected the patio in search for Fran. He was unaware that Fran lay silently just below him. Without speaking, the Haitian returned to Mr. Bennett, he reported the girl was no where to be found. Fortunately for Fran, the Haitian missed the frosty hand print on the railing of the patio.

"She spooks easily and escapes well. No worries, we will have her before long. Let's go." The two swiftly left the apartment.


	2. An Old Flame

Frozen Fran

Chapter 2: An Old Flame

The security guard at 509 Walnut Street watched a cute blonde dressed in pajamas pace outside the main door. The young twenty-something anxiously pushed the intercom button light, paced twice and then impatiently pushed the button again. He had only worked at Crestwood for two weeks and had already learned that shady individuals often frequent apartment 1155. The sky raise was known for its mob inhabitants. He was slightly amused by the insistence in the young woman's voice demanding to see Rick.

Rick was a young, up and coming mobster. The older mobs had not yet considered him a threat. Mike always thought Rick was a bit to confident. Flinching, he thought about him coming down her to meet that girl. Rick always had a way of irritating him. Whether it be shouting an overly-fake hello in his direction, tipping cheaply, or messing with his morning news paper. Mike hated Rick. Hated him for everything he stood for or the lack of standing for anything. _I hope he refuses to see her. It is late, after-all. _

"Let me in! I need to talk to you!" Frantically she announced. Fran had come from Idaho just to realize that she was dating a criminal. Naive as she was, it never crossed her mind that he did anything other then Realistate. The realistate business had allowed him to take long periods of time off when she came to Vegas to visit and allowed for him to take her on glorious Caribbean vacations. Fran never questioned his lies. She had imagined a wedding and the good life when she moved here. _And now, I am stuck here with no friends, family. And no way home._ _Damn bastard. Why couldn't you sell realstate?_

"Get down here now! Tell me why you sent those men to my house!" He had done this before. He sent his "Employees" to pick her up so they could talk. _I moved to another apartment immediately after that. How did he know where to find me? God, I hate him. He hasn't bothered me in over a month. Why is he interfering with my life now? _

Confused, Rick run his hand through his thick locks of black hair. "Fran, calm down. I don't know what you are talking about. I'll be down in a sec." Entering his bedroom, his two houseguests beckoned him to bed. Quickly, Rick rejected them and sent the two barely dressed women into the hallway and on their way. He dressed and went to meet the love of his life. On the elevator, his mind was filled with happy memories of being with her, of loving her. "God I miss you Fran" Rick, muttered under his breath. He gave the doorman a fake "Hello" as he walked by causing the large man to flinch and nod his head in acknowledgement.

_Too bad he is a straight-shooter. I really could use a big boy like him in my company. _Rick stopped. His breath was taken away by the frazzled, upset woman standing in the doorway. _God, she is cute when she is mad._ The banging on the glass door immediately pulled him back to reality.

**Author Note: Thanks for reading. I am growing quite fond of Fran as I develop her and I hope others are enjoying her also. I attempted to take the anon's tip and not over use the characters names. I appreciated that feedback and hope that I managed to improve on this. Thank-you for assisting me in becoming a better writer. I hope you enjoyed reading it. Any constructive criticisms would be greatly appreciated. **


	3. The Morning After

Frozen Fran

Chapter 3: The Morning After

The air was filled with the smell of eggs, sausage, and pancakes. Fran stirred in bed and slowly opened her pale, blue, eyes. Her surroundings came into focus leaving her momentarily disoriented. Slowly she was able to recall the night before. Terrified she ran here; hoping to find out answers to her questions. She had assumed that Rick sent the men to her house. After about twenty-minutes of arguing, Rick convinced her that he had no idea who the men were. Panic overtook her. If it wasn't him, who was it? Rick was comforting and helped her come up with a plan. They decided he would drive Fran the next morning to her apartment, pick up any necessities, and then take her to a hotel where she could stay for a couple of nights. Rick planned to exploit his criminal connections and investigate the break-in.

_I can't believe I trust him. Unfortunately, it is the only option I have. _The blonde made her way out of the guest bedroom and into the spacious living room filled with the latest gadgets. It was the perfect bachelor's pad. Little had changed in the month they were broken up. The metro-sexual apartment design and layout was the same. The penthouse was comfortable to say the least.

Fran walked through the living room, letting her hand run across the arm of the black leather sofa and along the back of the matching chair. She walked over to the fire place and examined the pictures covering the mantel. _Not much has changed; yet everything has changed, _she sadly thought as she picked up a picture of the two of them on a beach in St. Thomas. She loved that picture. Her body in the swimsuit was amazing, her hair hung freely to her waist, and the crystal blue ocean expanded behind them. In the photo, she was resting against Rick's tan chest, his muscular arms wrapped protectively around her. What she wouldn't give to go back to place.

She was easily consumed by the flooding images of the vacation until "It is my favorite too. Make yourself at home" a male's voice from the kitchen interrupted her thoughts.

Slightly jumping, "Why do you keep all these," referring to the mantel covered with photos of the two of them. "Why don't you burn them like normal people?" She asked sarcastically. _Nothing about him is normal._

"Breakfast is ready," Rick casually set two plates down on a white cloth covered table for two. He retrieved a pitcher of orange juice from the fridge, and glasses from the cupboard before answering. "Because I still care for you. I miss you and to be honest, being with you was the best time of my life." _Why can't you just sit down and eat like a normal person? Why can't things be simple? _Rick pulled a chair out, motioning for Fran to sit down. She sat and began eating without speaking.

Fran definitely did not miss his bluntness. He was really too cocky for her. "If I was so good, why didn't you give up this criminal life for me?"

Not wanting to argue, or reveal more about his emotional state, he sat down and focused on his plate. Eventually his hate for awkward silences took over and Rick began talking about the weather, the local sports teams, just about anything to stay off the topic of them. This less then intimate conversation continued until breakfast was over, dishes washed, and the two pulled up to her apartment in his Jaguar.

Unknown to them, the couple was being watched from across the parking lot as they entered and left the apartment building. A black sedan followed the red Jaguar to a hotel on the outskirts of Vegas. The driver watched as Rick gently kissed the Fran on the cheek and drove away. He waited for the unsuspecting woman to unlock her hotel room door and drop her bags on the bed.

He picked up his cell-phone and made one call. He said, "I've found her. Just tell me when."

The voice on the other end simply said, "When". This simple word and this moment caused Fran's life to change forever.


	4. Abduction

Frozen Fran

Chapter 3: Abduction

"Hey what're you doing back so soon?" Fran flipped around expecting to see Rick, the only person who knew where to find here. Her smile fading as she stood face to face with a lanky Asian.

"You're not Rick?" Raising an eyebrow, she sized him up. _He's not much a challenge. If I had to, I could take him. _She hated having to consider if she could fight someone. Since the last night she stayed in her apartment, which is always on her mind. Is she strong enough, fit enough, skilled enough at kickboxing to take whoever approaches. She was the strongest and most talented in her fitness club's kickboxing class.

Fran confidently, tossed her hair over her shoulders. The man was wearing brown slacks and a white shirt; he could have been mistaken for a business man except he was missing a tie. He looked the bad-guy part as much as a ten-year-old freckled faced 10 years-old boy would.

With a Japanese accent, "No, I am not. Room Service? I can get you towels if you need them?" Ando smiled, glanced at his shoes and rubbed the toe of his shoe into the cement. _He wasn't expecting her to be so pretty. _His eyes followed the woman's toned legs up, to her waist, and then meeting her eyes, "You check and see if you need towels."

_He's kind-of cute. _Fran always liked the shy, nervous type when she wasn't falling for the bad boy. "Just a sec, I just checked in. You guys provide prompt service here." Pivoting around, swiftly she walked toward the bathroom. Ando was faster then her; he raised his hand and brought a black object quickly against the back of Fran's head. Limp, she fell to floor.

"Sorry my pretty. Once I get you to…" Ando fell hard on the floor, bumping his head against the dresser. Blood oozed from his nose, a cut broke open on his forehead. The Haitian walked over a moaning body, threw Fran over his shoulders like a bag of potatoes. The Haitian and a second man left as silently, as swiftly as they came.

Thirty-minutes later, the breeze from the open door brushed Ando's hair and kissed his lips. His eyes slowly opened; his vision blurred. After several minutes of just laying there, He was able to focus on a cheap set of turquoise box springs with white embroidered flowers. Slowly sitting up, Ando's hand began to pat down his body. "I'm alive! I'm alive!"

His nosed itched, he rubbed it causing dry, flakey blood fall to the ground. "Ugh, yuck" He gently, hesitantly ran his hand over the goose egg and gash on his forehead. _That's gonna hurt in the morning. _He crinkled his face up thinking about the future pain. He hated pain and hated being hurt. Ando had always been that way. Never the kid on the playground climbing the monkey bars, rather the kid on the ground playing safely by the wall. It's not that he had not tried being more adventurous. He did, after all, try out for the Soccer team. That experience lasted a whole two days, the soccer ball bumped his nose while he was trying to head bunt the ball, squirting his blood everywhere. He was certain he would die. Of course, he didn't die, but he didn't return to practice the next day either.

A faint sound of a cell phone ringing could be heard. Frantically, he searched his pockets. One after another. No, the ringing was not coming from him, rather under the bed. Laying flat on his stomach, he reached under the barely, fingers stretching to barely touch his phone. "Got it." Ando placed the phone to his ears as he sat up, "Mushy, Mushy"

"Where are you? Where's the girl?" The concerned voice on the other end questioned. "We were worried."

"They got here just was I was getting ready to leave. I'm sorry. It would be easier if I could do more then talk" Ando's tone was slightly sarcastic. He wished he had some power, anything really. He didn't mind the side kick role, but times like this, sitting in a cheap hotel room, bleeding with a headache, it got annoying. He wished he could be more heroic like Hiro, Peter, or Claire. But they had powers and he does not. Ando believed and often informed his friends that it is easier to be brave when one possesses powers to protect or strengthen them.

---

Fran disoriented, stared at the two men she recognized from her apartment. "What the…" She swore under her breath. The white, business looking man greeted her, "Hi Frances. It is nice to meet you" He was calm and collected. A little too calm and collected making her very uneasy.

"Yeah, I would say it was nice to meet you, but given the circumstances…" Fran narrowed her eyes, challenging the men. Her hands and ankles were strapped in to a doctor's exam table with a plastic cushion, minus the paper covering. Her legs uncomfortably stuck to the plastic. A perfectly white, pressed, sheet covered her otherwise naked body. "Where's my clothes?" Suddenly aware of the implications, "You didn't" She focused on her intimates to ensure she had not been violated.

"We are not interested in you body in that way, I can assure you. We are however interested in your freezing process…" Mr. Bennett leaned toward her as he spoke, his breath stuck of stale coffee, tempting her to react; hoping for some sign of the ice she could control.

Fran's hands twisted and turned in a feeble attempt to pull her hand out. Fran's heart began beating in her chest, extending into the base of her throat. Fran's face squinted in concentration, her eyes closed. Just as she began grinding her teeth, Ice flew from the tips of her fingers; the exam table became covered with frost extending to the floor. She had hoped that somehow her new-found ability would assist her in escaping from these men's clutches. It, however, just seemed to excite Mr. Bennett

"Now, that's ability." Mr. Bennett clapped his hands in front of his face. Coolly, he turned to the Haitian, "Finish the labs, mark her, and release her. Oh, and don't forget to hollow her out." A sneer crossed his face, "Wouldn't want her to tell her little friends about us" Briefly, a cute blonde in a cheerleading outfit, flashed through Mr. Bennett's mind. Suppressing the thought of his daughter, he quickly left the room. The Haitian was an obedient watchdog and completed every one of his employer's orders. Every one, that is, except the memory deletion.

--

Fran woke up three days later in a cheap hotel room. It reminded her of a pay-per hour room. The pink flower print bedspread was unfamiliar to her. The smoke-stained wall-paper was unfamiliar. Even the fake wood door was unfamiliar. Definitely not the hotel that Rick had picked out for her. Remembering that she woke up naked last time, she quickly glanced under the stiff comforter, she was completely clothed. Examining her arms she removed two blood stained cotton balls which covered two small pin-point holes. She shook as memories filled her mind. She remembered the nervous Asian man, then waking up and being poked and prodded. Jerking back the covers, clumsily she crawled out of bed, across the floor and shoved her head into the toilet and began dry heaving. After a solid ten minutes of porcelain worship, Fran rested her head on her hands and leaned forward. _What am I going to do now? _Self-pity crept into her mind, soul, and zapped her energy.

**Author's note: **Thanks for reading. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed my story. I appreciate it and enjoy every review I receive. I also want to thank those who have added my story to their watch list, favs list. Thanks so much for the support. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think. This is the longest piece I have written and would be interested in knowing if you guys prefer it longer? Shorter? Don't care? Anyways, thanks again!


	5. The Hideout

Frozen Fran

Chapter 4: The Hideout

Her small frame sat on the cold linoleum for several hours letting self-pity take over. _Why did that man let me remember? Why am I here and not at the other hotel? Why did they do those tests on me? How did they know what I could do? _Tears glistened her eyes as she remembered what she had gone through. Fran wondered why the Haitian let her remember. He told her this was his gift to her. He said that this would help save the world. Bitterly she thought _what kind of gift leaves someone feeling miserable? Gifts are supposed to make people happy. Not miserable. _

It was dark outside when Fran decided to get off the floor and do something, anything. Mostly, her appetite was the motivator; after all she had eaten in several days. Fran pulled herself to her feet and looked into the mirror. _God, I look like shit. _Fran's hair was standing up making a loop on the side of her head. She flattened it and then ran her hands through it. Overall, it didn't look too bad considering she hadn't washed it in three days. Finding a hair-tie on her right wrist, she pulled her hair into a tight pony tail. _That's better; _she tossed her pony-tail side to side.She sighed, resting her hands on the sink and leaning closer to the mirror. She examined her eyes, they were bloodshot and puffy. _Well, I'm not perfect, but certainly good enough to grab a Big Mac or something. _

Fumbling and muffled voices at the door to her hotel room pulled her away from the sink. Fran stood with her back to the wall. Realizing she was standing in front of the mirror, she swore under her breath. She positioned herself behind the door opposite of the mirror. There were multiple voices; Fran could make out two distinct voices for certain. Unfortunately, the bathroom was completely void of weapons. Fran eyed the shower curtain rod; it was attached to the wall by to large metal screws. It would make to much noise if she attempted to pull it down.

Peter, Claire, and Ando found themselves outside the hotel room trying to pick the lock.

"Too bad one of us couldn't be a common criminal", Claire yawned, watching with minimal interest as the boys attempted to pick the lock. DL offered to come along in case his talents were needed, but Peter insisted that they would not be breaking in on the girl. Said he was afraid of scaring her. She had after-all been through a lot already. So Peter said.

"Shhhh…We almost have it," Ando's impatience with the young girl was growing with each minute he was in close proximity of her.

There was a click and then Peter pushed the door open. Severely looking at the other two, he held his one finger up to his lips instructing them to whispers. _Why do they have to argue all the time? _

The three miss-matched burglars slowly made their way through the hotel room. The group had been staking out the hotel room most of the day. They knew Fran had spent the marjority of the day in the bathroom. The light from the bathroom told them she was in there, most likely, hiding. After several hours of watching and waiting for the girl to leave, the group got anxious to get the job done. So, against Peter's better judgment, they decided to capture her, take her to the hideout, and then explain who they were. Bad choice in his opinion, but hey, no one really asked him.

Ando and Claire continued to bicker as they quietly crept across the room toward the bathroom. Ando stepped on Claire's heel which sent her into a full-blown hissy fit. The two did not stop even after Peter mumbled a threat of sending both of them to the car.

Fran could hear the intruders from her bathroom. She hesitantly waited for the door to open. Her plan was simple, fight them off and run for the hotel manager's office. She hoped someone there could help her. The door opened, the wood inches from her face. She could see a young man with dark hair and bangs resting in his eyes. Their eyes met in the mirror, she pushed the door shut, closing the others out of the bathroom. Fran leaned her body against the door as the others struggled to get in. The man stayed calm, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"We don't want to hurt you," He said as the others pushed on the door causing Fran to lose her balance and fall forward, bumping her head on the sink. Peter caught her before she fell onto the floor.

---

She woke up with a headache, lying on a worn-out and patched leather sofa. She pulled off the patchwork quilt covering her legs. She was now in the heroes' headquarters or freak central as Claire called it. Peter more appropriately called it the hideout as they were barely hiding under Mr. Bennett's radar. Her feet touching the ground and leaning over resting her elbows on her knees; she sat a few moments in order to orient herself to her surroundings. Fran decided the last few days have officially been strangest days of her life.

The apartment was a large loft on the outskirts of Vegas. The property was owned by Linderman. Nathan had arranged for the group to stay there. Secretly financing the group was the only support he provided. Nathan figured that Peter would have less of an impact on his election if he was in another part of the country instead of in New York causing disturbances and creating scenes for the press. The hideout's main floor had a spacious living room, bathroom, master bedroom, and large kitchen. The décor was a sterile white except the sofa and a couple of paintings of red tropical flowers. An old abused coffee table covered with Seventeen, People, and Time magazines sat in front of the sofa. Next to the sofa was a matching love seat. Since no one could agree on who would sleep in the master bedroom, it remained empty. The upstairs was a loft filled with a dozen army cots belonging to each of the team members. Not very private or secluded but it worked for now.

Deciding to explore a bit, she stood up and walked into the kitchen. A tall, blonde sat at the table flipping through a People magazine. The blonde was intensly reading and absently playing with her large gold hoops. With little interest and without looking up, the blonde said, "Evening sweetheart".

"Hello?" Fran sized her up, deciding that this woman had no intention of harming her. "Where am I? Who are you?"

She smiled, "I can see they briefed you before knocking you out" Niki looked up from the magazine, "Names Niki." She offered her hand in friendship, it was rejected. Pulling her hand back, she continued, "And you are still in Vegas, just at 'Freak Central'" She made invisible quotation marks when sarcastically saying Freak Central. "You've pretty much slept through the evening. I drew the short straw and got late night duty of watching you until you woke up," She cocked her eyebrow, "Everyone else is sleeping."

Fran eyed the pizza box sitting on the table, "Great." Sarcasm filled her voice, "I'm Fran. What is 'Freak Central?' Is there any pizza left? I'm starvin'." Her stomach growled slightly as she realized she still had not eaten anything. Or taken a shower. _I'm gonna need a shower soon. Hopefully miss sunshine can help direct me to one._

"Yeah. Help yourself. Freak Central is this place, where all the freaks stay. Freaks as in people like you. Special people," Niki had gone back to the magazine; showing very little interest in the new girl.

Fran ate the remaining two slices of pepperoni pizza and found the shower and toiletries with minimal guidance from Niki. When she finished her shower, Niki had left the kitchen. Unsure what else to do, she returned to the sofa and closed her eyes. Fran prayed tomorrow would be a better day.


	6. Peter the Recluse

Frozen Fran

Chapter 6: Peter the Recluse

Fran had become adjusted to her life at the hideout. The two friendliest of the group were Claire and Hiro. Their personalities were decidedly different. Hiro was an overly happy Japanese who laughed easily. It was easy to stay upbeat around him. Claire was a typical melodramatic teenager who seemed obsessed with the mission, Peter, and finding her parents. Her first interaction with Niki did not leave Fran with warm and fuzzy feelings. She later learned that Niki warmed up after several conversations over a bottle of cheap red wine. Niki's husband DL was easy get-to-know but Fran felt he is hiding something. She doesn't trust him. Hiro's best friend Ando has a crush on Fran, or so she suspected. He always seemed uncomfortable around her and she caught him watching her. Ando always seemed to be hovering close by and quick to offer her help. Isaac is a great painter, she could easily watch him paint all day and never get bored. His ability to see the future intrigued Fran.

Of all the room mates, she was most fond of Peter. Peter is the reason she stayed and helped. He met her the first morning she was at the hideout. Peter took her aside and explained their plan and offered her a chance to save the world. Fran was skeptical at first. In fact, she called him crazy. This thought made her smile now. _After all, he is a little crazy. The idea was crazy. New York City exploding._ He patiently spent the morning going over everything including his ability, each person's ability, finding others, and the plan to save the world. He had graphs, maps, and a written plan. In the end, Peter showed her Isaac's paintings. He had painted her encounters with Mr. Bennett and her plea for help from Rick. After this, she was convinced. So now, she is part of this renegade hero group.

She has been staying in the sterile hideout for a week. In this short time Peter and Fran have been getting close. She felt closer to him then she had anyone in a long time. Peter was kind and gentle. She loved the way he would get excited talking about the mission. His determination was infectious and bled its way into each member of the group. Fran loved how he would absent mindedly brush his bangs out of his eyes when he spoke. _He looks good with longer hair, _she thought, imagining him excitedly talking about the plan.

These same over-grown bangs irritate Claire, Peter's second admirer. She reminds him every chance she gets to cut his bangs. In fact, Claire has offered to cut them for him. Claire is mostly obsessed with the fact that Peter saved her life. Her interest in him is solely infatuation, or so Fran liked to believe. Peter could never actually have feelings for her. After all, she's just a teenager.

----

Sitting on the worn-out sofa in the living room, Fran slowly ate her breakfast. Rumor had it that the group would very soon be moving to New York. Most of the houseguests believed that Peter would decide today. They would all have assignments in arranging transportation to the city. So, Fran was lingering around waiting for Peter to emerge from the master bedroom which was the acting office. He had been in the office all night diligently working not wanting to be interrupted. Claire last night had knocked on the door and asked him to dinner. Peter barked "NO" from the other side of a locked door. This harsh response had sent a very emotional Claire into a grumpy mood all that night. Her foul mood created an unpleasant environment for Hiro and Ando who had joined her for supper. In fact, it was so very foul the waitress at Applebee's avoided their table whenever possible.

Most of the group had decided to enjoy what they believed to be their last few hours in Vegas. Hiro and Ando went to the strip and to shop for a sword. Niki, DL, and Mica decided to go to the park or zoo. Fran was uncertain which. Isaac and Claire went to check out a local art gallery. The latter had asked her to join them but she refused. Her excuse was simple. She lived her and did not want to be seen. They didn't question her rationale.

Peter emerged from the office at noon. At first he thought the house was empty, but after several minutes he heard Fran in the bathroom. Peter went to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. He knew what he had to do, but wasn't looking forward to it. _Its funny how something I knew all along would have to be done is one of the most difficult things to do. _Peter swayed side to side and bent down looking for something to eat or drink. He really wasn't sure what he was craving. This action of looking for the item to end his craving continued for several minutes. Peter's indecision was killing Fran as she silently watched him.

Hands folded and leaning against the wall, Fran interrupted Peter, "It's not going to just appear in there you know?" A smile spread across her face as Peter jumped, bumping his head on the half-open freezer door.

Rubbing his head, "I didn't realize you were there. You shouldn't sneak up on people. What's not gonna appear?"

Rolling her eyes, "Whatever you're looking for." Fran responded matter-of-factly and shrugged. _Sometimes he a little slow. _

"Oh yeah. You wanna go grab a bite to eat?" Peter gave her his crooked little smile, "After all you did try to scare me to death."

Giggling, "Yeah that's a horrible line. Food sounds great to me."

Fran grabbed her purse and the two left the hideout in search of lunch. Fran hoped Peter would give her insight on what had kept him locked in the office all night.


	7. Burnt Toast

Frozen Fran

Chapter 7: Burnt Toast

The early morning sun streamed in through a crack in dusty curtains. Fran, stretched cat-like, yawned, and turned her back to the sun. The red blinking of the alarm clock light said six AM. The second bed occupant was undisturbed by the sunlight. His motion-less body snored quietly. Fran smiled_, when he sleeps, he sleeps like a rock._

Fran laid in bed for several minutes before getting up to make breakfast. She hummed as she fried the eggs. Twenty minutes later, she carried a wooden tray covered with slightly burnt toast, fried eggs, orange juice, and black coffee. She had never been much of a home maker, but she tried her best.

Setting the tray next to bed, Fran leaned over and kissed Peter on the cheek. Fran's blonde hair tickled his nose causing it to crinkle. "Morning babe," he was greeted by his loving wife's smile. Life was good.

"You made me breakfast in bed?" He sat up, eyeing the burnt toast. "You made the toast my favorite way!" He grinned boyishly as he took a bite; the dryness forced him to cough. She laughed and handed him the orange juice.

"Eat up. I have to change the dressing to your cheek before the meeting." Fran busied herself with straightening the room. She placed a pair of worn jeans, t-shirt, and a pair of boxers that were strewn on the floor into a hamper.

Peter watched her before taking a second bite of his breakfast. He knew he was lucky to have her. He picked up the burnt toast and spread butter over it. He was being spoiled this morning; butter was hard to come by since the explosion. It probably took Fran most of the day yesterday to find it. He opened his mouth to take a bite. Instead of taking a bite, he inhaled some of the dry flakes which forced him to cough.

Fran turned around, "You ok?" She looked a little worried but relaxed when Peter nodded his head. "Oh, it's my toast. I just can't seem to make it right" She blushed, "Really, you don't need to eat it. Seriously."

Peter grinned; little did she know it was his favorite part of the meal. "No, I like it. It's perfe…" A second cough escaped as the dryness tickled his throat. He gulped down the rest of orange juice.

Fran left the room to gather up the bandages. When she returned Peter had finished eating, dressed, and sat on the side of the bed. The old dressing was lying on the bed, the dried blood and pus clung to it. He had her compact and was examining the gash. Peter grimaced has he expelled a small amount of pus from the top corner.

"Hey, that's my job!" Fran placed her half-covered tray of bandages on the bed. "It's healing nicely." She expertly began examining the gash. It was completely closed above and below his right eye. The only open area ran along his check toward the tip of his ear. This area was only four centimeters now, and was relatively shallow. A shrinking pus pocket remained under his eye. Expertly, she gently expelled yellow to green pus. "The infection is slowly going away. Now, lay back" She gently pushed on his shoulder, but he resisted.

"Our medical supply is getting low." Peter had noticed the small amount of supplies she brought with her.

"It's ok. I'll go shopping later today. Now lay back" Once again she pushed on his shoulder, this time not as gently. This time he did not resist.

---

The group assembled in what resembled a living room of a small apartment. The explosion had demolished several areas of the city. This one was one of the luckier neighborhoods. Claire sat on the sofa; a cloud of dust filled the air forcing her to cough. The dust settled on her giving her a ghost like appearance. The group laughed. It was good to laugh; everyone had been too serious since the explosion. Matt came to Claire's rescue. He helped her off the couch and gently wiped the dust from her eyes and mouth.

The meeting began when Fran and Peter joined the room. Peter ran the meeting as usual; directing everyone's duties. Once assignments had been made, Hiro pulled him aside. In the corner, the two spoke in whispers. Their secrecy had become common place; no one really questioned it anymore. Well, almost no one.

Matt didn't care for the secrecy. He felt the whole team should be included in anything pertinent. In fact, Matt and Peter argued frequently about the secrecy. One such argument had led to a physical confrontation outside the apartment. Unfortunately, the fight was rather one sided. Matt left that day embarrassed and angry. He no longer argued over this tiny detail, but he did not keep his opinion hidden. Everyone knew he hated the secrecy.

---

Matt and Claire were on clean-up duty. This included walking through the remnants of buildings in search of people and cleaning those buildings already searched. The warm summer air tasted of dirt and dust. There shouldn't be anyone left in the city. Nathan had order an evacuation prior to the explosion. However, some people refused to leave. _If only they knew what they were really staying here for,_ Matt thought bitterly. _Dirt and dust and a fallen city_. He kicked a round piece of debris.

Matt and Claire made a good team. Matt read the trapped and hiding people's minds and Claire being invincible could safely go into unsafe areas to extract people. They had finished checking the building and were beginning to clear out the dust. Claire swept the floor of the apartment's entry way. She was barely making a dent in the dust. The team had made progress in areas further away from the explosion. Those buildings had less damage and required less repair. These buildings, the ones closer to time square, well, they were almost useless to clean.

One good thing about being here is being here with her. Matt stopped working and watched Claire work. Her wavy blonde hair forced into a bun, her green eyes focused on the dust. Her callused hands holding the broom. She noticed him watching her.

"Hey! You're supposed to be working too!" She grinned, her eyes twinkling. She stopped sweeping. She leaned her head on her hands holding the tip of the broom.

"I'm just taking a break. No rules about that, are there?" The banister Matt was leaning against broke and he found himself flat on his back.

"Oh!" Dropping the broom, Claire ran to Matt. "You ok?" Her face appeared seconds before she began checking for injuries.

"Yeah, I'm fine. A little embarrassed." The two bumped heads as he sat up. Matt blushed. Claire giggled.

"You cut anywhere? Let me check your back." She stood behind him and pulled up his shirt.

"I'm fine." Matt struggled with her to pull down his shirt.

"Let me look," Her breath was moist on his neck. He continued to struggle. "Seriously, I need to check. What are you afraid of?" She moved in closer to him, her lips tickling his right ear. "Come on, let me look!"

"Ok. Fine." Matt's face was bright red. "I'm not hurt. I can tell you that without you looking."

Claire pulled up the back of his shirt to find only bruises. "Nothing that won't fix itself" She proudly announced and gave Matt a quick kiss on the check. "Now back to work!"

Claire's affection continued to surprise him. He wasn't sure he would get use to it. He almost wished he never would. It was good feeling, being cared for and needed.

**Author's note: Its been a while since I've posted. Mostly due to the website not letting me. I'm looking forward to your feedback, just be kind!  
**


	8. Rest and Relaxation

Frozen Fran

Frozen Fran

Chapter 8: Rest and Relaxation

Claire stretched on the beach. The warm sun beating on her skin was forcing her sunblock to work overtime. The red oversized sun glasses protected her eyes but she still squinted from the sun glare. She turned onto her stomach and untied the back of her sea-blue bikini. She sighed and peaked at Matt through slits. Matt was propped up on his elbows reading the newspaper. Her sigh attracted his attention and he eyed her perfect, beautiful body. "Your gonna burn" _She always burns._ He smiled at her. Sunblock really is unnecessary since she heals as quickly as she would burn.

"No I won't. You're gonna put sun block on my back" Claire closed her eyes and waited. Matt stirred next to her. "The purple bag, on the bottom." He searched and found the SPF 45 exactly where Claired had directed.

A cold, wet drop landed on Claire's back making her jump slightly. Matt smiled and began message the lotion into the tan skin starting at her shoulders and moving down to the small of her back. His fingers knew her body well and were comfortable on her back. The blue bikini straps were lying on the towel revealing the sides of Claire perky chest. Matt was tempted to let his hands roam away from Claire's back. But he remained focused on the sunblock.

Claire relaxed under Matt's touch. She was reminded of the first time their feelings had been actuated. She had turned 19. Yes, he was significantly older. People were quick to tell her their relationship would never expand beyond infatuation because of the age difference. _Boy did we show them._ Claire smiled as she thought of those first few nights. Saving the world changes how one views things. _Age differences for example, are definently over-rated. _

Matt gently kissed the nape of Claire's neck. He felt the peach fuzz against his lips. "All done babe." He laid down next to her on his towel and watched her for several minutes. Matt still couldn't believe he and Claire were together. People outside of their group didn't understand and the couple got their share of stares. But, Matt and Claire didn't care. Matt never thought he would be, but he was in love again.

"Hey guys!" Hiro approached the sunbathers. He was quite the site walking across the beach. People were staring as he struggled to walk in his orange flip-flops. His Hawaiian shirt flapped open and the surf board dragged behind him. Half-way to the couple he tripped, his unoccupied hand catching his fall. Matt laughed and wave, "Hi!" He shouted to Hiro, to Claire he said, "We have company."

To this, Claire tied her bikini top and sat up. When Hiro reached the two he sat his surfboard down and rested for a few minutes. "I will surf today. We won't be on vacation to much longer. I will miss this place."

Matt knew what Hiro spoke was true. He wished he could read Hiro's mind and find out where Peter disappeared to. Hiro knew but refused to tell any of them. Insisting it would place Peter in danger if anyone knew where he was. Matt hated it. He didn't like the secrecy now any better then he did before. _If Peter is on some sort of mission, we should know. We could help him._

Hiro had rested enough. "I can leave my stuff here?"

"Sure." Claire smiled. She was fond of Hiro. He was sweet and really wanted to help change the world. He had a nerdish likeability. "Be careful out there. I don't want to have to come in after you!"

Hiro smiled at Claire, "Sure thing!"

--

Two weeks before

The group was meeting at five o'clock on a Monday. Evening meetings hadn't been necessary since the clean-up was essentially complete. In fact, their job duties hadn't changed since the clean-up was going smooth. Most of New York was safe for the public. In fact the only area not up to pre-explosion condition, was Time Square. If everyone chipped in, this area would be finished by the end of the week.

A few pizza boxes and soda cans were scattered across a wooden coffee table. Micah opened each box looking for any left-over pizza. He found one cheese, one sausage and mushroom, and one pepperoni slice. He picked up the cheese and took a bite. Nikki made a face. "I'm so full and bloated! I'm glad there are pizza places here again, but I don't miss this feeling." Nikki groaned and rubbed her stomach.

"I second that," Claire was stretched out on the old broken down sofa. Her legs rested Matt's and her head rested on two pillows.

Fran walked into the room. She perched herself on the sofa's hand rest. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. "Peter's not here yet?" She had left him three hours ago across town. They had a lazy walk in central park and lunch at the deli. He regrettably left her at the deli to prepare for the meeting. Fran had assumed this meant he would be here waiting.

"No, I wish he would hurry-up. I want to catch a movie tonight," Nikki responded. "Do you know what this is about?" She suspected Fran knew but wouldn't tell.

"No. I'm guessing it's about what we will do now that the city is cleaned up." She shrugged. Fran hated it that everyone believed she knew more then they did. It was true she was closest to Peter but he didn't share anything with her. If anyone would know what was going on it would be Hiro. They were after all always whispering and keeping secrets.

Peter arrived ten minutes later. The room immediately quieted when he solemnly rushed carrying several large sheets of paper. Two of the papers had drawings on them and one appeared to be a chart. This was the night that their lives and focus changed. This was the night Peter left the group and sent them on vacation. This was the last night Peter contacted the group for two weeks.

--

Present Time

The radio hummed in the background while Hiro showered. Surfing today was relaxing and fun. He hadn't mastered it yet but knew he would. He was relieved he didn't fall off the board everytime. In fact, he managed to get-up and catch a wave twice. Now, he only lasted for a couple of seconds each time, but it was thrilling none the less. As he was re-enacting his surfing, a man silently entered his hotel room and sat on his bed.

Hiro dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. The bathroom was full of steam and his reflection in the mirror was distorted. The back of his hand made a single wipe over the glass revealing part of his smiling face. He brushed his teeth, dressed, and combed his hair all while humming to the Beach Boys. Hiro remained oblivious to his visitor waiting patiently.


End file.
